


Royal Purple

by ficteer



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can’t expect me to be one in mind and spirit with someone I’ve just met!!” Takaya protested, his hand gripping tightly on the bergère the only thing keeping him from making an awful spectacle by storming out of the room. Misae’s response was as sharp as it was quiet, and holding all the warmth of the forgotten tea between them.</p><p>“For people like us, most marriages aren’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Purple

**Author's Note:**

> mari drew abemiha princes, and the next thing i knew the airbag was in my face
> 
> happy birthday, abe. you make an atrocious prince but at least you're cute.

It was likely a fine winter morning, crisp and white and sprawled before him off the grandiose marble of his balcony, the kind of morning that would usually entice him into lingering to enjoy deep inhales of cool air. But this morning was different, starting with the fact that Abe Takaya was lying in bed absolutely awake, hands still on the covers where he’d tossed and turned all night without sleeping, and once more, with the gentle rapping of knuckles at his door that were an hour earlier than normal.

“Come in,” he called, sitting up as the heavy oak door swung open just enough to let his personal assistant and closest thing he had to a childhood friend, Sakaeguchi Yuuto, slip in. He stared at Sakaeguchi as the ginger came in, arms heavy with formal clothes and a pleasant expression on his face. 

“Good morning, Your Highness, it’s a beautiful - oh, dear,” he stopped when he got to the foot of Abe’s bed, eyes wide and scanning Abe’s face, causing him to scowl even more than he was sure he already was. To make matters worse, he quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out the small cell phone he kept on him at all times. “Yes, hello, Izumi? I’m going to need you to come up to Prince Takaya’s room as soon as you get through with Her Majesty…. ah yes, bring your best. Pretend it’s GQ again.”

“That bad?” Abe said when Sakaeguchi clicked his phone shut, earning raised eyebrows and a diverted gaze that answered the question well enough. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You didn’t sleep at all, by the looks of it,” Sakaeguchi corrected, walking over to the cabriole couch and carefully depositing the armful of clothes he’d brought, likely agonized over by both himself and Suyama for the past few weeks. “Come on then, get up and let’s see if we can unpack those bags under your eyes a bit. Go take a shower and I’ll have Suyama bring up some breakfast. Maybe that’ll clear you up a bit before Izumi gets here and has a heart attack.”

Abe pushed the blankets on his bed back, stretching and grunting before lifting a hand to scratch his chest, hand running through his hair and mussing it up. He padded into the bathroom of imported Egyptian marble and gold bullion-streaked fixtures, groaning when he looked in the mirror and finally saw for himself the atrocity that poor Sakaeguchi had seen himself. “You failed to stress just how bad it was,” he called through the cracked door, pulling his cotton shirt over his head and tossing it in the hamper as Sakaeguchi’s light tongue click responded.

“I like my job, Your Highness,” Sakaeguchi responded, audibly flinging open the curtains on Abe’s balcony doors with the metal rings clanging against the bar. Abe huffed out an amused breath, reaching over and turning on the water of the shower as he finished stripping himself. He showered throughly, taking extra time to rub his face and hopefully get some life into it, stepping out and grabbing the plush towel hanging on the hook next to him. He dried off, wrapping the cotton around his waist as he walked over to his sink and brushed his teeth, then shaved. By the time he pulled on his boxer briefs and returned to his bedroom, there was a platter of breakfast food sitting prettily on his table, and Suyama, head chef and good friend of Abe’s, standing next to it chatting with Sakaeguchi.

“Oh, good morning, Your Highness,” Suyama greeted when he looked up and saw Abe walking out of the bathroom. “I brought you something to eat before your big day.”

“Thank you,” Abe responded, taking a seat at the table, towel hanging off his shoulders as he looked up at Sakaeguchi. “What exactly is the itinerary for today, Yuuto? Nothing’s changed, has it?”

“Not as far as I’m aware,” Sakaeguchi responded. “You’re to be dressed and in the Blue Drawing Room by nine, where you will be receiving the Mihashi Royal Family with Her Majesty and His Highness Shun, after which you will take lunch with Prince Mihashi in the east gardens greenhouse, followed by - ”

“Yes, very well,” Abe waved off, biting into his toast glumly. Nothing had changed, the Mihashi Royal Family was still coming, and nothing was cancelled. He chewed thoughtfully, fork clinking delicately on the fine china plate as he put it down after a nibble of eggs. He was hardly hungry, he thought sourly, but Suyama was staring at him with a knowing eye that had him taking another reluctant bite. 

Just as he was finished eating, there was a knock at the door, and Abe wiped his mouth to get rid of any crumbs with a fine white napkin, calling out, “Come in.” The door opened, and in a flurry of movement, Izumi Kousuke hauled in a large bag, dropping it on the chair across from where Abe was sitting and giving him a quick glance over. Abe held the stare, and he was well-rewarded with a hiss of air out of Izumi’s pursed lips.

“Well, it’s not the worst I’ve ever seen you,” he said, reaching over to the black bag and unzipping it noisily. Next to him, Sakaeguchi made a protesting noise in the back of his throat that had Abe scowling in his direction.

“Well, as true as that may be, this is hardly an appropriate appearance for today,” Sakaeguchi reminded to Izumi’s back, shooting a glance to Suyama for backup and earning two raised hands of denial. Sakaeguchi sighed, crossing his arms and nervously tapping his finger on his forearm where it rested. “Well, if anyone can fix this mess, you can.”

“True.” “And who’re you calling a mess?!”

“I’ll take your plates if you’re finished, Your Highness,” Suyama interrupted, taking the tray from Abe’s table and putting it on the cart that had come with him from the kitchens. Abe shot him a petulant stare, earning a soft chuckle as Suyama looked to Sakaeguchi with a teasing tilt to his lips. “Yuuto, don’t bully him too much. He has a big day today, after all!” 

Abe shot a foul look to Suyama, then turned it on Izumi when there was a sharp pinch on his nose. “Put your clothes on so I can deal with this,” he said, making a vague gesture towards Abe’s face. Grumbling under his breath about nothing in particular, Abe stood from the table, walking over to where Sakaeguchi had dumped the ceremonial dress clothes for the day’s activities. He pulled on the socks first, followed by the pants, and an undershirt which tucked in. His scarlet coat came on next, delicately so as not to muss the gold filigree sewn into the collar. Sakaeguchi came up behind him, tugging and pulling the jacket into place, then fixing the epaulettes so they hung correctly. Abe then buckled the ruby and diamond-set belt buckle, shifting it into place as Sakaeguchi walked over to the chair to grab the ceremonial sash. Finally, Abe stepped into his shoes, putting his feet on the stool next to the couch and letting Sakaeguchi tie them so Abe didn’t wrinkle his outfit prematurely. 

“You look better already,” Izumi drawled, his southern Nishiura accent coming across nicely through his sarcasm and earning himself another scowl for it. He pointed at the chair, and Abe sat obediently, schooling his face into a practiced neutral as Izumi began the makeup application. Ten minutes later, Abe looked into the mirror Izumi held up and exhaled graciously that the sleepless night had been flawlessly hidden. 

“Excellent work, Izumi. Thank you,” Sakaeguchi said, clapping his hands together as he looked down at his watch. “Well, Your Highness, we’re a touch behind schedule after that delay, but considering that Prince Mihashi is arriving by car, we can hope that they will be late as well.”

“By car?” Abe repeated, standing up and tugging his coat back into place. He walked out of his bedroom, leaving Izumi to put his things away as he and Sakaeguchi made their way to the Blue Drawing Room. “They didn’t come by plane? That’s a twelve hour drive from Mihoshi!”

“It seems… that Prince Mihashi does not fly well,” Sakaeguchi said delicately, and Abe didn’t bother smothering his groan. If he hadn’t been dreading today before, he certainly was now, he thought, passing each of the grand paintings and statues in the magnificent hall with heavy footsteps. He was to be wedded to a man who couldn’t fly. Excellent. He felt the disaster brewing angst in his gut already.

As Sakaeguchi predicted, his entrance into the Blue Drawing Room went unannounced as there were no guests inside. His mother, however, Her Majesty Abe Misae the Queen of Nishiura, shot him a quick look that was as sharp as the tongue behind her frown. 

“Takaya, you’re late,” she said, eyes dropping pointedly to the armchair on her left. Abe sat down dutifully, looking over to see his brother smiling broadly in the chair to  _his_  left. “Luckily, the Mihashi family came by car, so they are also running a bit behind schedule. They have an excuse, however.”

“I apologize,” Abe said, voice a careful neutral as he looked over to where his brother was barely able to contain his excited energy. He was always best suited for spending time with Tajima and Lord Hanai out in the stables, hardly able to sit still long enough for the long, drawn out ceremonies he’d been required to learn. The one gracious thing about the awkward silence that followed was the lack of paparazzi capturing all of Abe’s discomfort for the tabloids, and the fact that they weren’t allowed into Schloss Abe until the wedding procession, which was primarily Izumi’s publicity baby. It was the one grace his mother had given him about the whole situation.

It was but a few brief moments of silence among the present Abe family before there was a knocking on the door, and Abe stood more slowly than the immediate motion his brother gave, but faster than the sheer elegance of his mother’s swan-like schooling that had quickened her to marriage into the royal Abe family. She looked to Abe, and gave him a small smile, reaching out and gripping his gloved hand with her own, squeezing tightly. “If it is truly awful, you don’t have to do this, Takaya,” she said softly, leaning in and whispering into his ear. “It’ll be difficult, but I’ll get you out of the arrangement.”

Mildly comforted, Abe nodded, squeezing her hand back and then dropping it when the door swung open. The doorman stepped inside, holding the door open as he made the introduction of Her Majesty Mihashi Naoe, Queen of Mihoshi, and His Royal Highness, Prince Mihashi Ren. Abe looked first to Queen Mihashi, as she came through the door first and was indeed magnificent to behold in a dress as green as the fields Nishiura was gaining through this marriage, and then to his betrothed, to Prince Mihashi in his blue and gold bouillon-adorned dress uniform, blond hair swept into an elegant wave that belied a bit of wildness to it otherwise, and lips pursed tightly together. For a moment, Abe felt the annoyance spark in his gut at the thought that Prince Mihashi was showing some kind of displeasure already, but a quick glance to the blond’s right hand showed that it was tightly fisted in the hem of his coat, suggesting anxiety as what was more likely. Well, that made two of them.

When golden eyes met with his own, Abe bowed his head, staring at the carpet at Prince Mihashi’s feet. Abe’s mother greeted both Mihashi royal family members to Schloss Abe, telling them to make themselves at home. “I thought it more appropriate to meet here than in the throne room, as we are soon to be family,” she added, taking a seat on the couch across from the coffee table. Queen Mihashi sat next, followed by Abe and Shun, and finally Prince Mihashi, who looked as stiff as if he was in a wooden torture chair. Abe stared at the blond while his mother motioned for the servant standing next to her to take care of the tea, then glanced over to Sakaeguchi, who gave him a subtle thumb’s up that would have been the death of them both if Abe’s mother saw it. Abe looked back to Prince Mihashi, who was as nervous and stiff as decorum would allow, eyes flicking from the tea being poured to Abe’s knees, several times as he fidgeted just enough to be noticed. He didn’t speak until Abe’s mother asked him how he took his tea, answering with a stuttered and soft “J-just plain, thank you…” that had Abe biting down on his tongue.

Prince Mihashi took the cup of tea with a practiced elegance that showed his good upbringing, even if he was obviously too nervous to show it off fully. Abe grabbed his own cup, one sugar added, staring over the rim of the cup as he took a sip. His mother had gotten the finest of their grays, he noted, looking over at her and seeing the pleasant smile that he recognized as having just a hint of deviousness to it. Okay, so she was subtly trying to impress them. Odd, considering the engagement was apparently all but finalized, but he mentally shrugged and continued to enjoy the tea, going to glance back over to Prince Mihashi just in time to see the blond look away from  _him_. 

It was at that point that Abe decided that meeting his fiancé for the first time in the presence of their mothers was probably not the worst idea, but it was certainly an awful one. If he could just… reach over and shake Prince Mihashi until he made eye contact and opened himself up for conversation, maybe their tea session wouldn’t be so hellacious; but no, those golden eyes continued to dart around the room, sneaking glances Abe’s way and then away again, all but boiling the tea in his teacup with his intense stare. Thankfully, his mother and brother seemed quite pleased, chatting with Queen Mihashi quite nicely.

Then, “What do you like to do for fun?” Shun asked, and Abe watched Prince Mihashi look up when it became apparent that the question was directed at him. Prince Mihashi flicked his eyes to Abe, then back to Shun, finger tracing the edge of the saucer in his hand.

“I, ah, play violin and viola. And cook! I like to cook, too,” Prince Mihashi said, shoulders dropping a bit as his face finally lit up. “I had one of the chefs at the château teach me how, and it’s even better when I can get things from the garden, and - oh.” Prince Mihashi suddenly stopped, staring down at his cup of tea and blushing bright red. “Ah, excuse my manners…”

“Not at all,” Abe’s mother soothed. “You don’t need to be so nervous and formal, go on ahead!” Prince Mihashi nodded, but his mouth stayed shut, eyes flicking up to meet Abe’s before falling back down to his tea once more. Abe felt his teeth grind close in his mouth, baffled and annoyed, somehow, at Prince Mihashi’s personality. He was a  _prince_ ; he had no business being this meek. Abe looked back to Sakaeguchi, only to see that his assistant had disappeared out of the room. Possibly to go set up the lunch in the greenhouse, Abe mused, and making sure that the gardens were absolutely pristine for Abe’s scheduled walk with Prince Mihashi. Oki tended to keep them as immaculate as anyone possibly could, but Sakaeguchi was not a man who cut corners. 

It was a painful thirty minutes longer of Abe answering Queen Mihashi’s questions and Prince Mihashi stuttering his own answers to Abe’s mother or brother, and by the time there was a knock on the door from one of the butlers, signaling the end of their tea time, Abe exhaled in relief. He’d yet to speak a single word directly to his fiancé, he realized, and though it was technically his mother’s line to do the invitation, Abe took a step closer to the blond, causing those wide golden eyes to lock with his own.

“Would you care to join me for a walk in the gardens?” Abe asked, watching as Prince Mihashi’s mouth wrapped around words that didn’t quite come out. Taking that pause, Abe looked to his mother, who looked a bit surprised, but nodded in approval. Abe then looked back to Prince Mihashi, who finally nodded.

“Y-yes, that… that sounds good,” Prince Mihashi finally answered, looking to his mother who shooed him with a flick of her gloved wrist. Prince Mihashi then looked back to Abe, who led the way out of the Blue Drawing Room and towards the back patio. He looked over his shoulder as he walked, fancy dress shoes clacking against the marble floors, wondering if it would startle the blond too much if he complained about the boring tea party to establish repertoire. Well, better he find out just what he was getting into before their marriage, Abe mused, having been swatted by Sakaeguchi for his inappropriate complaining more than once.

“I always find those tea parties with mother dull,” Abe said, slowing his footsteps so that Prince Mihashi was walking next to him, instead of a step behind. He was just in time to see the startled jolt Prince Mihashi gave, spine straightening and face pulling tight as he spluttered a response. Abe looked to him, genuinely curious and a little horrified, if he was really honest, that his future husband might actually find those horrible obligations  _enjoyable_  and  _arrange_  them for  _them_. “What, did you actually enjoy that? Honestly?” 

“It… It was…!” Prince Mihashi started, hands mussing the hem of his fancy jacket. Abe looked down to the pressed cloth, very similar in make to his own, then back to Prince Mihashi’s face, which flushed lightly, and then those lips, which pressed tightly together again. Golden eyes flicked about the hallway, and then a response that was so soft, for a second, Abe wondered if he’d projected it onto him. “…Boring…” Abe jerked his attention to Prince Mihashi, who stared wide-eyed at him, almost childishly gleeful in his defiance as his lips curled into a half smile and his cheekbones flared pink. Abe turned his head away as he bit his lip, managing only to swallow down half of the choked laughter at Prince Mihashi’s expression. He did give himself one last look to the blond however, and though he was sure he’d carefully wiped the smile off his face to keep some semblance of proper stature, apparently there was enough humor left over that Prince Mihashi seemed to relax in response.

As if that little secret between them bridged some kind of agreement, that once they were married there would be little to no tea parties with their mothers present if they could help it, Prince Mihashi was walking next to Abe at his normal pace instead of trailing sluggishly behind. When they reached the glass french doors down a flight of sweeping steps and further down another hall, the footman opened one to let the two princes out onto the patio. Abe watched as Prince Mihashi looked around with eyes that were wide and practically glittering, taking in the small but astonishingly elaborate gardens. Not that he blamed him, Abe thought, looking around himself and appreciating what he normally passed without much thought; Oki was one of the world’s finest garden architects, sculpting art out of dirt and taking the small space Nishiura had available and turning it into something truly beautiful. 

“They’re not big, but our gardener takes good care of them,” Abe said, looking over to Prince Mihashi’s face and once again thinking how childlike he looked, sparkling with awe at Oki’s work. “Would you like to walk around a bit?” 

“Y-yes, please,” Prince Mihashi said, nodding rapidly and following after Abe’s long footsteps, trailing his hands gently over the boxwoods when they slipped inside a stone trail and staring awe-faced at the roses flanking the fountains. They weren’t pretty this time of year, and Oki had trimmed them well, but there was a sort of quiet prettiness about it all the same, an expectation of something incredible to come. Prince Mihashi opened his mouth, breathing around words hanging at the back of his throat, then stopping himself and starting again, successfully making the words on his third try. “Ah, um, Prince Abe, I…” Abe paused, the gravel beneath his feet crunching one last time before he turned, hands slipping into his pockets to see Prince Mihashi worrying his hands at his hip level. 

“If you have something to say, say it,” Abe said after a few moments of waiting, turning and taking a step forward until he was standing in front of Prince Mihashi’s shrinking figure. “If we’re to be married, you’re going to have to talk to me, you know.”

“I… I know,” Prince Mihashi responded, softly, eyes falling to the side. Abe watched him chew on the words in his mouth, waiting with more irritation building up at the thought that he was going to have to deal with  _this_  for the rest of his life, then, “Are… do… Is it okay? I’m not…”

“Huh?” Abe probed, ungraciously and causing his ancestors to roll in their graves, and goodness if Sakaeguchi ever found out - if his  _mother_  ever found out.

“I’m not…! There are others who… who would be better than I am,” Prince Mihashi finally managed, hands tugging on the bottom of his jacket as he stared steadily at the golden buttons on Abe’s chest. “I mean…! I’ll… I’ll work hard, and I’ll do my best, but…”

Abe scowled, feeling the tender tugs of a migraine beginning to form at the edge of his brain. Prince Mihashi looked about on the edge of a panic attack, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes and teeth biting hard into his lip. Abe breathed out a harsh huff of air, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Then, closing his eyes and counting backwards from ten, he steadied himself, leveling a stare on Mihashi’s quivering form. “Cooking, right?”

“Cooking?” Prince Mihashi repeated, blinking without understanding. 

Abe nodded. “You said you liked cooking. And playing the violin.”

“A-And the viola!” Mihashi interjected, fingers curling together at his chest level. “I prefer it, actually, but there’s not as much music that’s proper - “

“I can’t do any of that,” Abe said, keeping Prince Mihashi’s baffled expression locked with his own. “It doesn’t matter if you are the best, you’re better than I am. You have something that I don’t, something that you bring of value to a union.” 

“B-but…!” 

“Nishiura is small and unkempt, and Mihoshi has the farmland that will feed our people and bolster our economy when we establish positive trade. And, if you don’t mind me saying, our country’s deep purse will definitely not hurt yours.” Prince Mihashi flushed, but he didn’t deny it. “Get those thoughts about comparing yourself to others out of your mind. My betrothed is Prince Mihashi Ren of Mihoshi, and I’ll have you proud of it.”

Prince Mihashi shook his head, mouth opening on a wail. “N-no, I… I  _am_ proud of it, I - !” He deflated, eyes falling from Abe’s face once again, focusing on the dusty gravel that was quiet in their lack of movement. He looked about ready to cry, Abe thought, unsure if he should try and force the true protest out of him or leave him alone to settle his thoughts on his own. Frustration bubbled low in his gut, that he didn’t know Prince Mihashi well enough immediately to settle this bizarre behavior, that he was going to eventually  _learn_  how to settle it through repeated exposure, and there was a brief thought of his mother’s hand tight on his own, the whispered promise that he could get out of this if it was truly awful. Just as soon as it came, though, Prince Mihashi reached up, wiping the tears out of his eyes and straightening his spine, looking Abe stubbornly in the eyes.

“I… I apologize. It was an inappropriate question. Shall we finish looking at the gardens?” he asked, and Abe wanted to scream no, because it was infuriating to just drop this conversation, to just pretend like there wasn’t something obviously bothering Prince Mihashi about their marriage, and it was an arranged marriage yes but it wasn’t written in stone and if he had a problem he needed to say so  _now_ , but instead of saying any of those things, he nodded, swallowing past the bitterness that rose on the back of his throat like unsweetened tea.

Walking through the gardens seemed to cheer Prince Mihashi up in any case, and though Abe still felt the lingering grumpiness from their disaster of a first private conversation, he too felt calmed by the fruits of Oki’s labor. The crunching of gravel was eventually covered by Prince Mihashi’s compliments on each of the arrangements, and Abe found himself reluctantly impressed at how many of the different plants he was able to identify, even with the few were in their winter hibernation that Oki left. “I’d love to see it in the spring,” he said while trailing fingers over the purple flower he’d just identified as a crocus, turning bright eyes on Abe that had him staring for a moment after Prince Mihashi stepped forward to keep moving. 

By the time they made it to the center of the gardens near where the large fountain of two lions filled the air with shimmering sounds of water, the clock near the courtyard chimed twelve, alerting the both of them that it was time for their lunch in the greenhouse. Prince Mihashi was touching the soft leaves of a lamb’s ear, so Abe reached out, cupping his elbow to get his attention. Prince Mihashi straightened, turning towards the touch quickly, eyes wide and very close to Abe’s. A little too close, truth be told, but not wanting to startle Prince Mihashi more than the little bird prince already was, Abe stayed still, not holding Prince Mihashi’s elbow, but still touching it gently to ground him.

“It’s time for lunch, in the greenhouse,” Abe informed, swallowing around words that felt peculiar and heavy on his tongue, and when Prince Mihashi exhaled shakily Abe realized he must have been holding the air in his lungs, because that was definitely the first time he’d ever had breath rush over his face, and the sensation had him a little warm all over. He carefully stepped back from the stiff blond, clearing his throat and gesturing down one of the many paths leading away from the lion fountain, picking up his place on Prince Mihashi’s left as their footsteps crunched down towards the greenhouse.

When they arrived, Abe was almost grateful to see Sakaeguchi’s beaming face, though his mood sullied a bit when he saw that it was directed not at him, but at the blond prince at his side. “Hello, Your Highness, my name is Sakaeguchi Yuuto, Prince Abe’s personal assistant. It is my honor to meet you.” Abe felt his face pull into a grimace at the saccharine display, but when he heard the giggles from his right, he turned, absolutely baffled at the noodle-like flattered half-smile on Prince Mihashi’s face. “Come on inside and have a seat, and we’ll have our head chef go over your dining options. I heard you like cooking!” Sakaeguchi’s voice disappeared into the greenhouse, and Abe stared at his fiancé practically drool over the food after being introduced to a very pleased Suyama, following after he huffed out the amused breath that was hanging in his lungs.

It wasn’t quite as awkward with Prince Mihashi with Sakaeguchi there facilitating the conversation a bit, and Abe spent most of the meal listening to Sakaeguchi tell Prince Mihashi about Schloss Abe, its history, and a few of the traditions that Abe had forgotten would be interesting to outsiders. Prince Mihashi was particularly interested upon discovering that there were stables, looking to Abe with wide, sparkling eyes. 

“C-Can we…!?” 

“Certainly. Tomorrow afternoon is wide open,” Abe agreed. It was a bit of a white lie, but figuring that the previous afternoon plans was another session of tea with Queen Mihashi and Abe’s mother, he knew Prince Mihashi wouldn’t mind. “Do you ride?” 

“Mmm, well enough,” Prince Mihashi responded, fingers toying with the cloth on the table. “We had a horse when I was young, but when he passed, our groundsman retired, so it was quite some time before we got another horse, and I was busy with other things by that time, so I got to ride very little.”

Abe thought about Tajima, their firecracker horse trainer and champion polo representative, and suddenly he felt less like allowing Prince Mihashi anywhere near the stables. But Prince Mihashi’s face was bright like it hadn’t been all day, picking at his food with an excited rush as though finishing this meal would make tomorrow speed more quickly to him, and Abe knew he wasn’t going to tell him no. A soft sound caught his attention, and Abe looked to Sakaeguchi inquisitively, frowning at the positively devious expression on his childhood friend’s face. He watched as Sakaeguchi’s eyes flicked to Prince Mihashi, then back to meet his own, and despite his mounting confusion, he felt a tug of irritation when Sakaeguchi merely rolled his eyes and smothered a snicker into his palm. 

Finally, Prince Mihashi finished his meal not too long after Abe finished his, and maids swooped in to gather the plates as Abe stood from the table, walking over to Sakaeguchi as Prince Mihashi stood as well. “Is Mizutani ready to receive us?” he asked, and Sakaeguchi pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at his planner. 

“He will be by the time you get up to the third floor,” Sakaeguchi responded, closing his phone and giving Abe a pointed look. “Take the back staircase.”

“The back staircase? But it’s twice as far that way,” Abe said, earning rolled eyes and a light pinch on his arm. 

“Have you no sense of romance? That’s the  _point_ , Your Highness,” Sakaeguchi hissed, lifting his eyebrows as he gestured towards Prince Mihashi over Abe’s shoulder. “Now go and don’t make an ass of yourself any more than I’m sure you already have. It may be an arranged marriage but you’re still wooing him, you know!” 

Abe grunted in lieu of retorting something more profane that would make his mother smack him in the back of his head, turning around and looking to see Prince Mihashi hovering nervously, not wanting to intrude but also very obviously feeling left out. With one last sour look to Sakaeguchi, Abe reached out for Prince Mihashi’s elbow, taking it in his palm and lightly directing the blond out of the greenhouse and back into the Schloss, hesitating for a moment when he reached the grand hall. He looked to where Prince Mihashi was looking around, taking in the architectural details, then to the staircase next to them and the hall just beyond, which stretched down the length of the building, to another set of staircases that spiraled up to the third floor. Abe looked to Prince Mihashi, running his tongue on the back of his teeth. Wooing him…? How on earth did someone woo his intended? Not only was he himself grossly incapable of, of  _flirting_ , Prince Mihashi seemed grossly incapable of receiving it, if their moment out in the gardens was anything to go by, recalling the stiffness and quivering breath Prince Mihashi had displayed.

At the very thought that there had been a  _moment_ , Abe felt warmth on his cheeks, looking away from the building and turning his thoughts from how best to get to their next appointment instead to the moment now, where Prince Mihashi was tracing his gaze up to the ceiling where a beautiful mural was painted, face alight with awe and open with brightness, body relaxed for the first time since Abe had met him as he turned his body a bit to take in the different angles of the painting, and Abe saw for the first time the strong proof of royal upbringing in the grandness of Prince Mihashi’s posture, his shoulders drawn back and a hand resting on the belt at his waist, the other loosely curled at his thigh, fingers long and elegant in his gloves; and although his jacket was wrinkled from where he’d been clutching it earlier, although his hair was beginning to lose its earlier pristine sweep, although his lip was a little red from where he’d been nibbling on it in his anxiety, when golden eyes dropped from the mural and met his own, Abe felt a hitch in his breath at a sudden appreciation of beauty in Prince Mihashi, and perhaps… 

Stepping forward, Abe raised a hand to Prince Mihashi’s hair, and on an impulse, he felt himself grin as he mussed up the blond strands in all directions. Prince Mihashi squawked, ducking away and giving him a scandalized look, then freezing because laughter filled the domed entry way, and Abe knew it was coming from him but he couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it. He clutched his stomach, bent over as he laughed until he was sure there were tears in his eyes, and when he finally straightened, he looked into Prince Mihashi’s stunned face, suddenly framed by wild blond hair, and he sighed pleasantly. “That’s much better. Come on, we’ve an appointment to keep,” he said, taking Prince Mihashi’s elbow in his hand again and pulling him into the hallway, away from the grand staircase. 

“Wh… what appointment is it?” Prince Mihashi asked, fingers reaching up and toying with his ruined hair that was now more in a fluffy mess than anything else. It looked better on him than the elegant swoosh, Abe mused, feeling his lips pull into a half-smile. 

“Mizutani Fumiki, our event planner. He’ll be the one planning most of the wedding, though we’re just getting a preliminary feel for it today.” Prince Mihashi hummed, taking his hands out of his hair and twining his fingers together, looking down at his palms where they were facing upwards, though he moved carefully, pressing his elbow into Abe’s palm a bit when Abe went to pull it away. Cautiously, not looking over in case his face gave away some expression, Abe slowly curled his fingers around Prince Mihashi’s arm, one centimeter at a time, until the muscle beneath his hand relaxed, arm shifting a bit for Abe’s to slip around, leaving them arm-in-arm down the empty hall. Abe felt the heat return to his face, tongue heavy in his mouth and breath coming a little too quickly for how slowly they were walking.

“What… kind of wedding would you like…?” Prince Mihashi asked quietly, and Abe looked over, intrigued by the pink on Prince Mihashi’s cheeks. He turned his attention down to the marble passing beneath their feet, slipping his free hand into his pocket, humming under his breath. 

“Not too big, I don’t think,” he said, spotting Prince Mihashi nod his head quickly out of the corner of his eyes. “You neither? Well, that works out well. Would you prefer indoor or outdoor?” 

“Indoor… I don’t want to be cold,” Mihashi replied quickly. “Um, for… colors… we should do purple!” Abe looked down into Prince Mihashi’s golden gaze, waiting for an explanation. “Because… you know… red and blue…”

Nishiura and Mihoshi’s state colors, Abe placed, feeling a tickle of amusement at another expression of Prince Mihashi’s childish side, a simple thought that was grossly cheesy. “Okay, indoors and purple. Anything else?” 

“I want…! To play a song! F… for you,” Prince Mihashi said, voice too-loud and then painfully soft at the end, his arm tensing around Abe’s as his whole face lit up red. “Um, on… on my instrument… I don’t know which one yet, but…”

“I’d like that,” Abe said, causing Prince Mihashi to exhale loudly on a huff of breath and practically steam from the ears. Abe nearly groaned at the embarrassed twist in his guts at just how easy it was to please Prince Mihashi, and if it wouldn’t make the blond think something stupid (and if it wasn’t so warm and nice, Abe grudgingly admitted somewhere in the back of his mind), he would pull away to steam in his own embarrassment. Instead, he kept walking, wondering if this counted as ‘wooing’ or if Sakaeguchi really was as full of shit as he looked with a face like that.

The spiral stairs were a little difficult to climb side by side and arm in arm, but the moment Abe started to pull away, there was a tug on his sleeve that had him back and a stubbornly pink Prince Mihashi, lips pressed tightly together and eyes refusing to look in his direction. It felt silly, but also kind of fun, like something he would have done with Shun when they were younger and still laughing children. Then, the third floor arrived, and Abe guided Prince Mihashi to the fifth door on the left, rapping his knuckles on it and then opening it, finally releasing his arm out of their hold to push the blond in first before following.

“Prince Abe,” Mizutani greeted with a wide grin and a bow, then turning to Prince Mihashi. “And you must be His Highness Prince Mihashi! Mizutani Fumiki, at your service.”

Abe pushed Prince Mihashi towards one of the couches flanking a low coffee table that was covered in marriage paraphernalia. Books, magazines, order forms, flower pictures… Abe stared in a moment of abrupt irritation at all of the details, wondering if Prince Mihashi would be too upset if they just had Mizutani set up all of the details. A glance over at the blond and his wide excited eyes, however, told him just how much that was not going to happen.

Indeed, several hours and a new throbbing headache later, Abe had seen more of the inside of wedding books, magazines, journals, websites, and every other piece of consumable media he could imagine than he’d ever wanted to. He rubbed at his temple, glancing down at his watch to see if (dear heavens please) it was almost time for dinner, and thankfully, it was close enough that he didn’t feel too guilty making a point of tucking his watch away. Sure enough, Mizutani looked down at his own watch and laughed, “Whoops! This was supposed to just be a general meeting… Well, we got a lot done, and I’m supposed to go talk to Her Majesty, so I’ll take my leave.” 

Mizutani stood, bowing to both princes and slipping out the door, leaving Abe to sigh in relief as he sagged against the couch. He looked over to Prince Mihashi, who had a sudden distressed look on his face, and felt the frown pull even deeper on his own. “What’s wrong?” he asked, watching as Prince Mihashi avoided his stare and feeling a twinge of irritation, because damn it, no, they were not going to take a step back when he was finally at a place where he was - oh.

“You look… upset,” Prince Mihashi responded, looking down at his hands in his lap, his spine back to that same stiffness it had during the excruciating tea party at their mothers’ hands, and, “Did I… Did I mess something up?” Abe blinked once, then twice, and then he was scowling furiously, his brows pulling sharply downwards. 

“I’m not angry!” he shouted, lifting a hand to his throbbing head when the loudness of his voice strained his headache even more. It made Prince Mihashi jump as well, eyes welling up with tears as his shoulders rose up to his ears. As his mouth opened around the apology, Abe growled, reaching out to clutch his shoulder and get his attention, to shake him out of this anxious state so Abe could explain it was just a headache and that he was no good at this sort of thing, only to watch as Prince Mihashi stood off the couch, hands clutching together at his chest defensively, face turning red and splotchy with the sobs he was holding back. Abe stared at the blond, head still throbbing but less important, and slowly, he stood as well, reaching out carefully, a flashing fury burning through his veins when the light touch of his hand on Prince Mihashi’s shoulder caused the Mihoshi heir to flinch even as an apology for doing so flashed across golden eyes that wouldn’t meet his. A conditioned response.

He wanted to ask who it was who had taught him that touch meant pain, wanted to know what little asshole kid took his ability to casually touch his fiancé away, wanted to find whoever did it and show him all the wrath that the military of Touri itself couldn’t wreak. He wanted to do all of those things, but they were for later, when Prince Mihashi wasn’t trembling in front of him, lips parting, “I’m… I’m s-sorr…” 

“Shhhh,” Abe murmured, his left hand raising as well, cupping Prince Mihashi’s throat, thumb lightly stroking the soft skin in a comforting motion. Prince Mihashi looked up at him after a small hiccup, eyes lined with heavy tears of shame and embarrassment, and it was here, breathing the same air and their skin touching for the first time in a brushed kiss against reddened cheekbones that Abe felt the stifled pressure on his diaphragm, the way his lungs couldn’t quite take in a full breath when Prince Mihashi was this close, not when he could smell the Mihoshi mountain air in the blue jacket mixing with the potpourri his mother had placed throughout the castle, a pleasant mix of Mihoshi and Nishiura that had his skin tingling almost as much as the way Prince Mihashi’s eyes drifted shut, lips quivering and a single tear sliding down the prince’s face. Abe raised his right hand, tracing the wet trail with his thumb, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against Prince Mihashi’s, their eyes locked and noses rubbing. 

“I want to marry you, Prince Abe,” Prince Mihashi whispered reverently against his lips, and Abe felt a blossoming in his chest that had his throat tightening around a breath that didn’t quite make it to his lungs. And then, he exhaled and it came out as a soft laugh, and he smiled around the sound, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of his fiancé's skin seep into his own at that single point of contact.

“Takaya.”

\----------

It was a week later that Prince Abe Takaya of Nishiura saw the picture. It was an article that had an all-too familiar tone about it, not to mention that the picture itself could only have come from one source, and it was for this reason that he found himself storming through Schloss Abe, the rolled up magazine curled tightly in his hand.

He didn’t bother knocking, instead all but kicking the door down. His suspicions, if they could have been called something so unsure, were only satisfied when Izumi Kousuke didn’t even flinch, just looked up at him with droopy eyes through the smoke curling from his cigarette. Barely suppressing his snarl, Abe lifted the magazine in his hand, tossing it on Izumi’s desk, exposing the picture on the front cover of the two familiar princes leaning together, foreheads touching, eyes shut as they nuzzled each other fondly with happy smiles that made Abe’s face burn to look at. “What. The hell. Is this.”

Izumi hummed under his breath, taking a drag of his cigarette and closing his eyes. “Some really delicious composition, if I do say so myself. You know, you’re an ass, but you’re photogenic as hell. It’s really annoying, actually.”

“You wrote an article about me and Ren!” Abe shouted, red-faced as he thought back to the article in question, titled  _Happily Ever After_ and complete with lines like ‘ _love at first sight’_  and ‘ _fairy tale royal wedding_ ’. It was disgusting. It was embarrassing. It was all Izumi Kousuke’s fault. “When the hell did I say that was okay?!” 

“Ah. Well, you see, there’s the snag.  _You’re_ not my boss,” Izumi said, pointing at Abe with two fingers as he reclined lazily in his chair. Right as Abe was sure he was going to explode, Izumi gestured to his bookshelf with a jerk of his chin, and Abe looked to see an expensive vase filled to the brim with expensive flowers, and a white card with the words ‘thank you’ swirled on it with all-too familiar handwriting and a loopy heart that screamed of Her Majesty. 

Izumi puffed out a perfect ring of smoke and grinned.


End file.
